by George Hagen
When they returned, Paladin regarded Crawfin with a wary glance and immediately challenged him with a riddle. “What can burn you without fire, and lie without speaking?”
“A carpet,” said Crawfin. “Caw, caw, caw!”
Paladin laughed, but then pinched Gabriel’s shoulder with his foot, signaling that he wasn’t quite ready to trust them.
Septimus sensed their doubt. “Relax, my friends,” he said. “We are just like you! A raven and his amicus!”
“Tell me, can you actually fly together?” asked Gabriel. “Para—”
“Paravolate,” interrupted Septimus. “Let me demonstrate!”
Rising from his chair, the man flexed his fingers. “Now, it’s rather like jumping while standing still. You have to think about jumping, without actually moving your muscles.”
Locking his glance with Crawfin’s, he made a small upward gesture with his finger and promptly vanished.
Gabriel looked around the room.
“Oh, I’m right here, dear boy.” Septimus’s voice spoke merrily from the mouth of the white raven. “Or, if it’s preferable to Crawfin, he may travel in my form.”
Suddenly, Septimus reappeared, and the white raven vanished from sight.
“Why would a bird want to be human?” asked Gabriel.
Septimus tried to reply, coughed, then removed the remains of a mouse tail from his mouth. “Crawfin,” he snapped, “it appears you didn’t finish your snack!”
The white raven rematerialized on the chair and gulped the mouse tail from the man’s fingers. “I can answer that,” said Crawfin. “There are perils to being a raven. If, for example, we are among great horned owls or falcons, it is far preferable to be human. To be eaten by an owl is a very nasty way to go.”
“And there is one other benefit,” added Septimus. “Together, our differences are diminished and our similarities are enhanced. Crawfin and I are smarter when we merge …”
“And more determined,” added Crawfin.
“Can we talk about my father again?” said Gabriel. “How do you get to Aviopo—”
“All in good time, my boy,” interrupted Septimus. “We have explained how to paravolate. Now we have a question. The location of the torc, if you please?”
Gabriel felt Paladin pinch his shoulder in caution. “How is it you know about the torc?” he replied.
“Oh, every sparrow, finch, and chickadee knows about the torc!” said Crawfin.
“Well, I don’t know exactly where it is. All I know is that there’s this riddle, hidden away, that explains where to find it.”
“Ah! So where is this riddle?”
“Why didn’t my father tell you, if you were such good friends?” asked Gabriel.
Septimus’s expression became shrewd. “Smart boy!” He slapped his knee and laughed. “You’re being careful, and rightly so! Your father would be proud of you!”
The man didn’t look entirely pleased, however. Gabriel decided Septimus was a bit like sunlight moving on water: Quick. Elusive. Deceptive.
It was then that Pamela walked into the kitchen, back from school. Gabriel introduced his guests, who turned their attention to her with the same intensity they had given him.
She gasped when she saw Crawfin. “What a beautiful bird!”
“Thank you, my dear,” said the bird. “You’re very pretty yourself.”
“Would you like to hold him?” said Septimus.
“Oh, I’d love to,” gushed Pamela.
Crawfin hopped obligingly onto her wrist. She stroked his white feathers with a look of utter rapture.
“So, about Aviopolis …,” said Gabriel.
“About that riddle,” Septimus countered. “I hope your father put it in a very safe place.”
“Safe enough,” replied Gabriel.
Septimus smiled craftily. “Then you know where the riddle is?”
Gabriel bit his lip, furious at having admitted this.
Crawfin nuzzled Pamela gently with his beak. “I’ll bet this house has some clever hiding places, eh, my dear?”
“Oh, yes. The best hiding place is in a desk,” Pamela replied. “But it’s magic, nobody can open it unless—”
“Pamela!” Gabriel interrupted sharply. “Don’t you need to practice?”
The boy’s anxious expression was all she needed to realize she had made a mistake. “Excuse me,” Pamela said, handing Crawfin back to Septimus. “I have to practice my violin.” Slipping Gabriel an apologetic glance, she hurried upstairs.
Now Septimus turned to Gabriel and spoke in a smooth, seductive tone. “Don’t you see how simple this is? You want your father back …”
“And we need the riddle that explains the torc’s location,” said Crawfin.
They were so determined, so insistent, so devious, thought Gabriel, but he kept his lips sealed tight. They were too clever.
The sound of Pamela’s violin playing echoed from the staircase.
“Ah, how sweetly she plays,” said Septimus. “She must be like a sister to you.”
When Gabriel remained silent, Septimus and Crawfin shared a glance. It became obvious to them that he would reveal nothing more.
“Well, we must be off,” said Crawfin, hopping onto Septimus’s shoulder. “If you should change your mind, just tell any little bird you see.”
“Any little bird?” Gabriel said curiously.
“Sparrows, finches, chickadees—they’ll pass it on,” added Septimus with a wink.
Gabriel escorted the pair up the stairs and out the door. “Goodbye,” he said, relieved to see them go.
Septimus raised one hand with an elegant flourish and promptly vanished, leaving the white raven hovering in midair.
“Until next time!” said the white raven, then soared upward into the evening sky.
Do they really know your father? Paladin asked Gabriel.
I only know they really want the torc, replied Gabriel.
Gabriel waited until after dinner to discuss the visitors with Aunt Jaz. When he had explained what Septimus told him, she looked concerned.
“I don’t know who this man is, Gabriel. You’re right to be cautious,” she said.
“But what if Septimus is telling the truth?” said Gabriel. “And my dad’s really in prison, and the torc can free him? I have to do whatever I can to help.”
Aunt Jaz’s eyebrows tilted together in Paladin’s direction. “Perhaps you should begin by practicing what this Septimus person taught you.”
It took a few moments for Gabriel to understand what she meant, but then a wondrous thought crossed his mind, and he looked at Paladin.
“You mean—paravolate?”
The First Flight
It was late evening when Gabriel stepped out into the backyard with Paladin on his shoulder. A cool breeze sent the last of autumn’s yellow leaves spinning down onto the flagstones. The sky, a fathomless nighttime blue, seemed utterly out of reach.
What if it doesn’t work? wondered Paladin.
“What if it does?” said Gabriel.
Paladin jumped onto a wooden patio table, then rocked nervously on his feet. He had only flown in a confined room. To be out at night in a sky full of dangers, well, this was another thing entirely.
Sensing the bird’s anxiety, Gabriel stroked his sleek black head. “You don’t have to fly tonight if you’re scared.”
Paladin stamped one foot. “That’s the last thing I am.” Then he cast Gabriel a concerned glance. “Actually, it’s you I’m worried about.”
“But I want to fly!” said Gabriel.
“Yes, but in order for us to do it together, you must think and move like a bird. That may be the problem. You don’t understand what flying is all about.”
“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All, go ahead, explain it to me,” said Gabriel with amusement. He realized that Paladin hadn’t forgotten his remark about sparrows learning to fly in just a week.
Paladin began with the parts of the wing. “First, there are the metacarpals,
which are like your fingers; then the radius and ulna. The real work is done by the humerus, which is the bone from your elbow to your shoulder. Go ahead, stretch it!”
Gabriel flexed his shoulders, then spread his arms into a graceful upward reach. He did this several times until the raven gave him an approving nod.
“Nice,” said Paladin. “Now, Septimus said you had to imagine jumping while standing still. But when you jump, concentrate on your wings instead of your feet!”
Gabriel nodded and silently recited the parts of the wing. Humerus, radius, ulna, metacarpals. It was a bit like a spell. Humerus, radius …
Taking a deep breath, he jumped!
In an instant, the world blurred, then sharpened. Gabriel’s eyes were suddenly on the sides of his head instead of facing front. He realized his shoulders had dropped backward and his torso had shrunk; the sensation of lips vanished; his legs narrowed while his toes parted until they seemed impossibly wide. He looked down and saw a shiny breast of fine black feathers and two taloned feet. He paused to examine the handsome pair of black wings on his shoulders and felt himself topple backward with a thump.
Gabriel! snapped Paladin. Will you please pay attention! Imagine if I stopped moving your legs while you were trying to walk! You’d fall on your face!
Sorry! he replied.
After some maneuvering to get upright, they prepared to take off again.
Just remember, I’ll do the work! said the bird.
As Paladin spread his wings, Gabriel felt the air swirl in eddies around him. It was thick, thick as water, thicker, even. He remembered wearing rubber flippers in a swimming pool and pushing himself forward with a strong flick of his foot. It was like that now, except that Paladin’s wings gripped the air with even more strength.
One thrust and they left the ground.
Two thrusts and they were above the fence.
Three, four, five, and the house seemed to fall away beneath them.
The higher they got, the giddier Gabriel felt. When a breeze blew by, strong and steady as a freight train, they caught it and spiraled upward. Suddenly, Paladin stopped flapping and Gabriel panicked that they would drop, but amazingly, they coasted smoothly over the city, which was all the more beautiful for being so small and so far below.
It was blissful.
I like this! said Paladin.
I love this! answered Gabriel.
They passed through some low clouds and the glittering streetlights below became cloaked in an amber haze.
Paladin, are you seeing everything I’m seeing? Gabriel wondered.
Of course. Do you think I’m doing this with my eyes closed?
Well, I suppose it’s possible that one of us could sleep while the other did the flying, Gabriel replied. If we were traveling really far, I mean.
They swooped back down over the neighborhood and saw people walking along the sidewalks. Gabriel wanted to shout out “Hey! I’m flying!” until he remembered that he was in the body of a bird.
But then Gabriel recognized one person—a tall boy walking at a slow, reluctant pace.
Look, he said. That’s Somes! Let’s follow him.
So the raven spiraled lower and shadowed the big boy’s slow progress up the hill.
Somes carried a grocery bag. He stared at the ground, kicking at a twig as he made his way in long, languid steps. Presently, he arrived at a gray clapboard house with a shingle that read GRINDLE.
Gabriel and Paladin alighted on a nearby tree to watch.
Somes paused at the bottom of the stoop, as if the last thing he wanted to do was enter. He sat down and folded his arms. Suddenly, the front door opened and a tall, unshaven man wearing a baseball cap stood in silhouette.
Somes jumped up, clutching the bag.
“Finally back, huh?” the man said. “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry,” replied Somes.
“Let me see what you got,” said the man, reaching for the bag. “Peaches? Didn’t I say pears?”
“You said peaches,” said Somes. “I wrote it down somewhere.” He began turning out his pockets.
“No, I said pears.”
“Peaches, see?” Somes replied nervously, holding up a slip of paper.
The man grimaced. “Think you’re smarter than me?” He cuffed Somes’s ear with the flat of his hand.
The boy flinched in pain. “Why did you do that?” he cried. “I got you exactly what you asked for!”
“Don’t talk back to me! Idiot!”
With that, the man delivered a sharp blow to the boy’s face, then walked back into the house with the bag.
The boy stood motionless, one hand covering his eye, weeping softly. After a moment, he turned, as if he sensed he was not alone. On a low tree branch, he noticed a raven. The two stared at one another for a moment; then Somes walked into the house.
Now boy and raven flew toward the East River. The water was dark and magnificent, rippling with reflections from the windows of office buildings, and they could see traffic rolling silently like small beads of light along the streets. Soon, however, Gabriel began to feel an ache in his wing muscles, and he heard Paladin thinking.
I’m tired. Let’s go back.
Yes, agreed Gabriel, and they headed toward home.
Paladin alighted in the backyard and Gabriel jumped free.
“That was amazing!” he whispered.
“Not bad,” said Paladin, puffing out his neck feathers, obviously very proud of himself.
Quietly, Gabriel tiptoed upstairs with Paladin. The moment he got into his bedroom, Pamela appeared at the door.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry …,” she began.
“It’s okay,” said Gabriel. He was too excited to be upset, and immediately described soaring through the air and the gorgeous flight over the bay. He also told her about seeing Somes struck by his father.
When he finished, Pamela looked slightly peeved. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I just wish it had been me, that’s all,” she said. “My life is so boring. Nothing ever happens to me.”
“Wait, what about the dancing desk?” said Gabriel.
“Oh, sure,” she said. “It was fun the first time, but it’s nothing like what happened to you tonight. To fly, and have a friend like Paladin read your thoughts?”
“Why don’t you try it with him?”
Pamela sat down with Paladin on her arm. The raven and the girl stared at each other for a long moment, but it was obvious that it wasn’t working. Magic between two minds is a mysterious thing. It happens quite simply, or not at all. Like friendship. Or love.
“It’s no good.” Pamela sighed. “You’re just lucky, Gabriel.”
With that, she headed back to her room.
The Abduction
On their way to school the next morning, Abby prodded Gabriel for details about his flight, but she became very quiet when he described the incident with Somes and the peaches.
“Poor Somes,” she remarked. “Imagine how awful it would be, living with a father who hits you for fun!”
“Yeah—and he took it out on me a few times,” Gabriel said.
“It kind of sounds like you spied on him,” Abby replied.
Gabriel reacted with surprise. He recalled his father’s diary description of Corax spying on his friend Thomas and realized how easy spying was for him to do now. He frowned, wondering if there were other changes coming over him—worse things.
Somes arrived at school with an ugly purplish bruise around his eye. As he weaved his way to his desk, he ignored Gabriel’s sympathetic glance.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m fine,” snapped Somes. “Don’t I look okay?”
Gabriel decided to let him be; but a few moments later, Somes tapped him on the back. “Aren’t you going to ask how I got it?” he said, pointing to the bruise.
“Sure,” said Gabriel reluctantly. “How?”
“Simple,” said Somes. “I was, um …
reading. Yeah, reading while I was walking. Had the book right up in front of me, and bam! I walked smack into a pole. Hit me right in the eye.”
Gabriel lowered his voice so that no one else could hear. “C’mon, Somes. Nobody’s going to believe that. You hate reading anything.”
“Seriously,” Somes insisted. “That’s what happened!”
Gabriel spoke in a whisper. “Look, I don’t care what your excuse is. I mean, I do care. I’m sorry about what happened last night. Just make up something that people will believe.”
Somes blinked at Gabriel, wondering how he knew. He hadn’t seen anybody around but that raven on the branch.
On the way home, as Gabriel passed a group of sparrows twittering from the bush in his neighbor’s front yard, the birds suddenly quieted down. It was just the way a group of kids talking about you might fall silent as you pass them. One of the sparrows fluttered off the bush and dropped a slip of paper before him. Gabriel caught it in his hand.
Written on it was a familiar name, with an address. On the reverse side was a note:
My dear lad, I have your musical friend Miss Baskin with me and wish to arrange her safe return as soon as possible. It might be a good idea, on your way to my apartment, to bring the item from that remarkable desk that will help us in our urgent quest.
Sincerely yours,
Septimus Geiger
Gabriel recalled the cunning expression on Septimus’s face as he left Gabriel’s house. Septimus must have realized how he could use Pamela to get what he wanted.
Aunt Jaz greeted Gabriel at the bottom of the stairs with Trudy.
“Gabriel,” she said, “have you seen Pamela?”
He felt his stomach roll. “No—why?”
Trudy’s forehead broke into worry lines. “I’m very concerned—very concerned! I called the school. They say she left at the usual time. She should have been home an hour ago. She’s never this late!” Her shoulders quivered and her small eyes became red and moist.
“Maybe I can help …,” Gabriel offered.
Blinking back tears, Trudy replied scornfully, “You? What can you possibly do? The less you have to do with her, the better!”